


four times deadpool kissed outlaw, and one time he didn't

by quadrille



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Cancer, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mercenaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quadrille/pseuds/quadrille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the beginning of a beautiful friendship, he'll have you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four times deadpool kissed outlaw, and one time he didn't

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2011, cross-posting it now. A setting where Inez's father had cancer.

**05.**  It was one of their first encounters. He knew her as little else but the hot cowgirl with the nice ass and enviable set of guns (note to self: find her stash if possible, raid it for the grenades and hollow-tipped bullets), and she knew him as—  
  
Well.  
  
He was perched at the top of a towering oak in a fluffy yellow Big Bird costume, bloodstained head jutting awkwardly out of its severed neck. Synthetic feathers rained down as she screamed up at him. He waved the disc between two ungainly feathered fingers, and blew her a kiss.

\---

  
**04.**  “Mistletoe!” he announced cheerfully—too cheerfully, in fact, as it bordered on the enthusiasm of the deranged—and flung himself through the doorway.  
  
“Who d’you think you are, freakshow?” she yelped, scrabbling backwards. “Centino?” He managed to press a huge, wet, slobbery kiss on her cheek before his face exploded in a beautiful nimbus of pain, sunbursts bursting behind his eyes. Wade caught a glimpse of fuzzy white cotton and a perfectly-shaped ankle before the red Santa boot (with viciously high heel and all) connected firmly with his nose, with a sickening crunch.

\---

  
**03.**  “Gods help us all, she’s  _fainted!_  By the powers that be, I am all a-flutter! Somebody get the  _smelling salts!_ —No? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Does a nice humble merc gotta do  _all_ the work around here?  
  
“Be still, my radiant, swooning Sleeping Beauty, for a mere kiss from your prince should—”  
  
“I’m up! I’m up! I’m up!  _Jesus,_  Wilson, no need to—”  
  
There was the sound of spluttering.

\---

  
**02.**  Inez stood at the edge of the tarmac, refilling her clip and watching the immobile mercenary with an unreadable look on her face. He, on the other hand, was pulling off one of his red shoes. When he tipped it upside-down, spent bullet casings tumbled out like oversized gravel. He winced.  
  
“You all right?”  
  
“Peachy ffffucking keen,” Wade answered after a pause, splintered bone fragments in his jaw knitting themselves back together. His mouth twisted for a moment, like a cow chewing cud. A minute later, he spat out a bloodstained, flattened bullet and then looked faintly impressed.  
  
“Gosh. That’s  _got_  to be one of my favourite tricks, ever ever ever. Do you think I could do it on Youtube? I think it’s about time I became a Youtube sensation. If Jean can do it and Rebecca Black can do it...”  
  
He still wasn’t moving. Inez’s brow furrowed, staring at his leg. (To her credit, she didn’t turn away during the process. He liked that. Few people could do that. Mercenaries and Madeline, but that was pretty much it. M. M M M M M turn it upside down and you’d get W, Dubbbbbyya——)  
  
_“Wade!”_  
  
The man blinked, refocusing. His vision swam. “Must’ve lost a lot of blood. I’d suggest getting me to the I.C.U., stat, except I know it won’t do any good. My body’ll make more. Eventually. Good old Dr. K bled all six liters out of me. Very vampire. Jesus christ, I was _pale._  Edward Cullen, eat your fucking heart out—anyway, he bled me to zero and I still didn’t die. It just. Took some time. Is all. Hey, you know what I  _miss?_  Hospital flowers. Bouquets. ‘Get well soon’ cards. All that shit. Casts, too! The last time I used one, it was just to conceal a pump-action shotgun for a birthday party. God, I really hate clowns...”  
  
And then she was there by his side, warm hands, warm skin, blonde hair (she smelled good, like shampoo and leather— _how_  could she still smell good? he  _reeked_  of blood and sweat. no fair—). There was a pause and then Outlaw’s muscles flexed, straining, and she snapped Deadpool’s ulna back into place. Realigned, it began to obediently reform.  
  
“Thanks,” he mumbled through a mouthful of loose teeth. One. Two. Three. Four, he counted—the crowns were already starting to peek through the fleshy pink of his gums. It itched, unpleasantly. It was annoying.  
  
“No, thank  _you,”_  Inez countered, pulling him back up to his feet. One leg dangled uselessly but started to straighten even as she watched. “You’re a damn fool, Wade Wilson, and I owe you my life. Who in the blazes throws themselves  _onto_  a bomb like that—”  
  
He shrugged, the bones rolling queasily in his back. He hoped it looked cavalier and devil-may-care.  
  
Abruptly, she leaned forward and smoothed the hair back from his forehead and (after quickly checking to make sure it was blood- and splatter-free) kissed him.

\---

  
**01.**  She was a huddled wreck, whole body contorted around the headset of the clunky old black rotary phone. The line from the hospital had long since gone quiet.  
  
Her shoulders shook.  
  
Even on the worst of jobs, when they were blasted to hell and back, he’d never seen her like this.  
  
Never was he more aware of his maimed skin, the pockmarked sores which marked him out as one of  _them_ , a dead man walking, expiry date, tick tock tick  _tock_ —and yet he’d cheated the odds. He was more mutated then the usual, of course, but the basic foundations were still the same: regeneration, duplication, the cells growing  _wrong._  
  
And never was he more aware of his deep breaths, clear head, lean body, strong muscles, absence of pain. Healthy and hale. Mostly.  
  
Meanwhile, the line was silent.  
  
Wade reached out and, awkwardly, uncertainly, patted the back of Inez’s tearstained hand.


End file.
